Ace: Devil’s Nightmare MC

by Bourne, Lena

  “This place is nasty,” I say, as he guides me to a table by the door.

  “Yeah, but it’s private,” he responds tersely. “Sit.”

  I’m seriously debating putting down some napkins over the foam stuffing coming out of my seat, since I’m wearing shorts and I’d rather not get a rash. But I don’t want to offend the waitress. She looks like the type who’ll spit in my drink if I do.

  “Sit,” he tells me again and this time I just do it.

  “I’ll be right back,” he adds and before I can protest he strides off to the bathroom.

  The waitress follows him with her gaze, but I see no interest in her eyes, lustful or otherwise. As soon as he disappears behind the bathroom door she comes to the table.

  “Some coffee to start?” she asks as she hands me a menu and lays down the one for Ace on his side of the booth.

  “Sure, yeah, for both of us,” I say, then open the menu at random and pretend to read it. The truth is, the letters are dancing in front of my eyes, which is what still always happens when I’m nervous or stressed.

  The trucker at the far table’s noticed me and is now grinning lewdly as he thoroughly checks out my boobs. I resist the urge to pull my tank top up higher, so it’ll cover the lace of my black bra. He’ll just get bolder the moment I show weakness. Guys always do. So I just ignore him.

  “So, you know what you want yet?” Ace asks, as he sits down across from me, cutting off the old truckers line of sight.

  “I don’t think we should eat here,” I say in a near whisper so the waitress won’t hear. “This place is foul.”

  He laughs, that same warm, soft laugh as before. “Nah, it’s fine. I had breakfast here a couple of days ago.”

  I almost say something unkind about his choice of restaurants, but the waitress returns just then with two mugs and a pot of coffee.

  “The only thing worth getting is a burger and fries, just so you know,” she informs us as she pours the coffee.

  Ace shrugs. “We’ll have that then.”

  “Both of you?” she asks, eyeing me like maybe she heard me badmouthing the place before. “She doesn’t look like she eats burgers and fries.”

  “Yeah, for both of us,” I say before Ace can.

  “Alright,” she says and shrugs.

  “And a couple of beers,” Ace adds, smiling at me.

  She shrugs again, takes the menus and leaves.

  I busy myself with putting cream and sugar in my coffee, because first his laugh and now his smile are burning serious holes in my resolve to cut him out of my life. If I keep looking into his summer sky blue eyes on top of it, I just might change my mind about leaving him behind.

  He’s out and about, after all, riding around as though the worst killers on the West Coast weren’t after him. Maybe he’s really not in that much danger. Maybe I’m overreacting.

  “I grew up in a place a lot like this one,” he says as he looks around the place.

  “A shithole like this?” I ask skeptically, once his eyes lock on mine again.

  He chuckles. “Cleaner and better visited. Better managed too.”

  “How come you didn’t stay home and run it with your parents then?” I ask, not sure why I’m participating in this weird conversation that has nothing to do with the last one we had this morning. Except that it’s a safer one. Except that I want to know everything about him. If he has pictures from his childhood with him, I’d gladly spend all night looking at them.

  His eyes go very serious all of a sudden. Angry and sad, but it’s an old sadness, an ancient one, one that has no hope of ever being put right. “I was raised by my uncle and aunt. My parents were deadbeats, both of them. My mom disappeared when I was a baby, and dad’s in jail. He died there a couple of years back.”

  “Alright, so with your uncle and aunt, then,” I say. “Why didn’t you stay there?”

  I’m not sure why I’m even asking this. Is it because I want to know why he joined Satan’s Spawn MC, which led him to being in this danger he’s in now? That my sister and I would be in if I leave with him, go home with him, fall in love with him. Too late on that last one.

  He narrows his eyes at me, but doesn’t say anything until after the waitress deposits our beers on the table and leaves again. Maybe he’ll just ignore the question. That would probably be for the best. I finally know why I’m still so angry. It’s because everything about this dinner, except maybe the shitty restaurant he chose, says date, and I shouldn’t be on a date with him. I should be running away.

  “Because they’re dead and their bar was burned down,” he finally says hoarsely, then takes a very long swig of his beer.

  My heart starts thumping like a train gaining speed, and suddenly anger is the very last thing I feel as that old sadness in his eyes grows and grows until it starts swallowing me up too.

  “Sorry,” I mutter and pick up my own beer.

  He shrugs. “Wasn’t your fault. I did what I could to get my revenge on the bastards that killed them, but after that there was no going back home for me.”

  I get the sense that he’s done talking about this, that maybe he’s sorry about bringing it up in the first place.

  “So that’s when you joined the Spawns?” I ask despite sensing that.

  “No,” he says and leaves it at that.

  “So you joined them later, or before?” I ask.

  “What’s with all the questions about the Spawns, Stormi?” he asks sharply. “Did Horse put you up to this?”

  “What? No! I just, I just…fine, don’t tell me anything, if you don’t want to. I just want to know more about you. About what happened to you.” I almost add, that led us to this impossible choice I have to make here, but stop myself.

  “There’s nothing much to tell,” he says. “It’s over and done with. Ancient history. A bunch of fuckers, bikers with no club came in one night and got into an argument with my uncle over a goddamn steak of all things, which they ended by shooting him in the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground. My aunt wasn’t so lucky, she died in my cousin’s arms from a shot to the stomach, on her kitchen floor. She managed to crawl from the bar to our home, where me and my cousin were sleeping. It was separated from the bar by a field. The shots woke me, I ran to see what happened, but all I could do was get a good look at two of the killers, while they torched the place. I got my uncle’s body out before the place burned down. And when I went to the MC that was supposed to be protecting our place, they wouldn’t even help me look for those fuckers, let alone help me kill them. It was up to my cousin and me to get revenge. We were both barely twenty years old.”

  He flashes me a look that’s mostly old anger and sadness, but there’s something fresh in it too. Something that looks a lot like regret. I’m frozen from the shock and pain of what he just told me, trying not to imagine it too clearly, but failing. That’s the most terrible life story I’ve ever heard. The only thing I want to do is make everything alright for him. Somehow. However I can.

  “So yeah, I joined the Spawns, but only after my cousin died, while we tried to get revenge on our own,” he says in a tight-voice that’s so emotionless I’m wondering if I’m understanding his words right. “The Spawns finally helped me get my revenge on those murdering outlaws that killed my entire family. And now they’re all dead too.”

  My heart wants me to stand up, go to his side of the table and hold him close. My soul wants to love him and take care of him from now until the end of our days, and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him ever again. My body is frozen in place, stuck and paralyzed by the selfish need to take care of myself and mine first.

  The waitress sets down our plates with a bang, startling me out of my motionless state. The smell of the burger is making me nauseous.

  He chuckles darkly and picks up his burger. “Sorry. I hope that story didn’t take away your appetite.”

  He bites into his burger and tears spill from my eyes. “I’m so sorry for what you went through. I can�
��t imagine the pain of losing your whole family like that. If I lost my sister…I don’t know what I’d do…I’d probably just die too.”

  “I’ll take you back to your sister,” Ace says while chewing. “Just give me a couple more days.”

  “No,” I say breathlessly.

  He looks at me sharply. “Why?”

  “Because of the danger you’re in. Because you’re hunted by killers. Because she might get better now, finally, and I won’t risk her getting murdered too, when those killers come for you.” I have to take a gasping breath when I’m done saying all those terrible, selfish things.

  He curses quietly and sets down his burger.

  “I already told you. That’s not something you have to be afraid of.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He shakes his head and takes another bite. “Just give me a few more days. Just trust me.”

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I want.

  But I do.

  I want to stay with him. I want to trust him. I want to get out of this place and make love to him.

  I nod and don’t say anything. He digs into his burger, eating with an animal-like hunger. I look down at my own food, pick up a fry, put it in my mouth and chew it, but it tastes like nothing.

  I want to trust him so badly. I want to lean on him so badly, tell him all my fears, let him dispel them all, tell him I’ve fallen madly in love with him, and that I never want to live without him. But he’s too dangerous. And whenever I play with fire, I always get burned.

  He finishes his food in record time, asks if I’m gonna finish mine, and when I shake my head in response, he proceeds to eat half of my burger and most of my fries too. I let him.

  “See, I told you she’s not the burger-eating type,” the waitress tells him when he waves her over to pay.

  “She just got some bad news,” he tells the waitress as he hands her the money.

  I don’t look at either of them, just walk outside to wait for him. Bad news? What a choice of words! The only bad news is he. The only bad news is that I have to leave him forever.

  We reach his bike, and I keep my eyes fixed on the distant horizon where lights are coloring the sky purple and pink, as I wait for him to mount. It looks kinda like the lights of Vegas do from the backyard of my home. It’s not Vegas though. Vegas is far away from here. So far it’s another life. One he’s not a part of and never will be.

  But it’ll be my life again tomorrow morning. And that’s a good thing. A happy thing. So why do I feel like my heart’s been ripped in two and there’s a whole chunk of it missing?

  “Come on, get on,” Ace says. “ Just a couple of days and all this will be a bad dream. I’ll do better the second time around.”

  “You were already perfect the first time around,” I tell him, as I meet his eyes and try to let him know just how much I mean it. I hope it’s working. “But you’re too dangerous for me.”

  A glance at his watch tells me it’s almost ten thirty. The bus leaves at midnight. I have the money for the ticket on me.

  “I’ll just walk back to the clubhouse,” I say, wishing I could say goodbye to him properly, wishing that with all my heart and all my soul.

  “Nonsense, it’s too dark and dangerous for you to walk alone around here.”

  I laugh at that, can’t help it. “And the clubhouse isn’t?”

  “Come on, Stormi,” he says. “Let me give you a ride.”

  I take the two steps separating us and wrap my arms around his neck, lean down and kiss him. Slow and deep, hard and long. His strength is seeping into me through his warm palms on my waist, which he’s gripping hard like he’ll never let me go, like he can’t let me go. Knowing that makes it damn near impossible to face what I must do, let alone do it.

  “I love you,” I tell him, as I break away from the kiss and try to step out of his grasp.

  “Let me go, please,” I ask him when he doesn’t.

  “I don’t want to,” he says hoarsely.

  I’m just watching it all play out in slow motion now, like this moment is a scene in an old movie and not my life at all.

  “Please,” I say. “Don’t make this so hard.”

  He finally relents, and I smile at him one last time then walk away.

  “So I’ll see you back at the clubhouse?” he calls after me.

  “I’ll never forget you,” I assure him over my shoulder, as I continue walking towards the main road. I’ll follow it into town and to the bus station, which is in the other direction from the clubhouse.

  After awhile I hear his bike roar to life behind me. But the sound grows fainter instead of louder. He’s not following me. It’s for the best that way. At least I got to kiss him one last time, just like I wanted to. It was a good kiss. A great kiss. Good enough to last for a very long time in memory. Last a lifetime. It’ll have to.

  19

  Ace

  Damn this fucking job! Damn the Sinners! Damn my fucking twisted luck! I can’t tell her everything, not yet, not until this job is done. And done right. I told her as much as I could, but I don’t think it was enough.

  I debated following her and making sure she got back to the clubhouse, but decided against it. She loves me and she’ll always remember me. That’s what she said. It should give me all the time I need to win her back when all this is done. I just need two more days tops, and then I can tell her the truth and she won’t have to just remember me, because we’ll be together.

  So instead of following her, I sped off back to the clubhouse. I’m gonna do the job I was sent here to do and find out who the snitch is tonight. No use Cross and the guys risking their lives attacking the whole club, if only one or three guys need to die. That was my thinking earlier, when I returned from jail. My welcome back to the clubhouse bar was general shock from everyone present, and Piston was very stuttery in his answers to my questions. And tight-lipped. Both him and Horse were, when I badgered them with questions of whether they have the local cops on the payroll. Neither of them would answer.

  I’m gonna kick it up a notch now. And if I succeed, if I’m right in my suspicions, then only Horse, Piston and Griff will die.

  Even before I turn onto the gravel road that leads to the clubhouse, I have the strangest feeling of being followed. But every time I turn back to look, there’s nothing but darkness behind me. But it’s like there’s a wall there, closing in on me, solid and unyielding, pushing me toward disaster. That’s how my gut sees it. I’m not easily spooked, but then again, after the day I’ve had, anyone would be a little paranoid.

  Still, I’m relieved when I reach the lights of the parking lot in front of the clubhouse bar.

  Judging by the number of bikes parked there, and the loud music blaring from the bar, there’s quite a party already going on inside. They’re probably celebrating how easily the Knights got eliminated today. It’s time I join in. And then, when everyone’s had enough to drink, I’ll ask my questions again. And get my answers.

  * * *

  The bar is packed, all the tables occupied by upwards of five bikers, some with club girls in their laps. Those who couldn’t get seating are leaning against the walls, drinking, smoking, some even fucking. One has the redheaded club girl bent over the jukebox and is laying into her like the world’s gonna end tomorrow. He’s not far off the mark. If I don’t find out exactly who’s in on the snitching, this could very well be the last night all of them have to enjoy themselves.

  No one takes much notice when I walk in, not like when I came in earlier. But I do notice two of my brothers in the crowd. Blaze is by the exit to the courtyard, nursing a bottle of beer while he scans the room through heavily lidded eyes. To his credit, there isn’t an ounce of recognition in his eyes when his gaze glances over me. I should practice the same skill. Colt is by the bar, chatting up Stormi’s angry-faced blonde friend, but I see him scanning the room every once in a while, and notice the moment he recognizes me. I pretend I don’t even see him.


  Piston and Horse are nowhere in sight, nor is Griff. I gravitate toward the counter, where a couple of the guys I’ve chatted with before are leaning with their backs against it, surveying the space.

  “So, Piston and Horse decided on an early night?” I ask the guy closest to me, picking up the bottle of Jack before realizing there’s no clean glass near, and that there’s no way I’m gonna drink straight from the bottle.

  The guy chuckles darkly, but shakes his head. “They’re in the back, having words with Griff.”

  So, all my eggs are in one basket, all my ducks in a row. I set the bottle back on the counter. I can feel how closely my two brothers are watching me, even though they’re not making any sign of actually seeing me.

  I’ll go to Griff’s office and get some answers. But just as I make that decision, the door behind the counter opens and Piston and Horse enter the bar.

  Damn.

  Horse’s angry glare fixes on me. His face is a deep red, his lanky hair stuck to his forehead in sweat. It’s clear he just got chewed out by his father once again, and he somehow thinks it’s my fault. Piston is watching Stormi's friend giggle at something Colt whispered in her ear. Clearly, Piston gets just as red in the face as Horse when he’s angry.

  He takes a step to go over there and put an end to their socializing, but Horse grabs his shoulder to stop him then nods in my direction. They both fix me with an almost identical look of determination. Some of the anger in Piston’s eyes gets replaced by fear, and I’d love to know the reason for that.

  They advance on me and I move to meet them. I’m so focused on them I get no warning before Blaze crashes into my side then staggering back the world’s biggest drunk. He smells like he consumed a whole brewery by himself. He slurs a curse my way, but his eyes are serious and sober as he comes at me again.

  “Get out,” he hisses in my ear before shouting a couple more drunken obscenities at me. The guys I was chatting with peel off the bar and move to handle him, but I get in between him and them.